<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Happiness Was Having You Here With Me by Lady_of_the_Spirit</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947113">Happiness Was Having You Here With Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_the_Spirit/pseuds/Lady_of_the_Spirit'>Lady_of_the_Spirit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Other, Presumed Dead, Saga references, Soft Din Djarin, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, gender neutral reader, hints of Din being touch-starved because he absolutely is, lovers part will come in the second chapter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:28:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_the_Spirit/pseuds/Lady_of_the_Spirit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re in the Guild.”</p><p>Your blaster aimed right for his throat, one of the few vulnerable spots he had. His blaster pointed at your unprotected forehead. He could see a tracking fob blinking in time with his hanging from your belt.</p><p>Din had seen you on Nevarro before: speaking with Greef Karga, walking down the streets, sometimes sitting at the bar and having a drink by yourself. He had never spoken to you before.</p><p>“Yeah,” you replied, your aim unfaltering. “So are you.”</p><p>No time like the present, Din thought.</p><p> </p><p>Din and Reader are both hunters in the Guild, but they only meet when they're both sent on the same hunt. When they keep coming across each other, they start to build a friendship. Din eases into the idea of being close to another person.</p><p>Then tragedy strikes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin &amp; Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin &amp; Reader, Din Djarin/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Happiness Was Having You Here With Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Also known as "Din experiences the mortifying ordeal of being known and then suffers because of it, the fic."</p><p>Trigger warnings: Canon-typical violence, death, mentions of blood, mentions of past child neglect (reader's parents weren't great). (If you notice anything else feel free to tell me.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re in the Guild.” </p><p>Your blaster aimed right for his throat, one of the few vulnerable spots he had. His blaster pointed at your unprotected forehead. He could see a tracking fob blinking in time with his hanging from your belt. </p><p>Din had seen you on Nevarro before: coming in and out of the tavern, speaking with Greef Karga, walking down the streets, sometimes sitting at the bar and having a drink by yourself. He had never spoken to you before. </p><p>“Yeah,” you replied, your aim unfaltering. “So are you.” </p><p><em>No time like the present, </em>Din thought. “Who’s your bounty?”</p><p>“Ex-slaver, on the run from officers on his home planet. You?”</p><p>“The same.” </p><p>You groaned. “Kriffing bastard client.”</p><p>Din couldn’t argue with that. Clients often hired more than one hunter for the same bounty. It would be easier if the client told them before sending them on their way. The Guild creed that no hunter would interfere with another’s hunt and that no hunter would kill another was hard to keep otherwise.</p><p>(Although Din had noticed that the latter had become more a suggestion than a rule, lately.)</p><p>Neither of you spoke for several seconds. Din waited to see what you would do. He knew it could come down to the two of you trying to kill each other to get to the bounty - it had happened to him more than once. He preferred to wait for you to act first. He had no personal vendetta against you, and he wanted to save his energy for collecting the slaver.</p><p>He studied your face and your posture. You hadn’t altered your stance since he had spoken. Not a twitch. Your expression hadn’t changed. </p><p>“I don’t really feel like fighting a Mandalorian today,” you said finally. “How about a truce until we get the bounty? We can figure it out after that.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me.” </p><p>He didn’t lower his blaster until you lowered yours. </p><hr/><p>The bounty was still a distance away when night fell, so the two of you stopped your trek across the planet to rest. A small camp was set up and the two of you ate your rations in quiet. </p><p>Most people, Din had found, when confronted with his quiet nature, tried to make up for it with chatter. The silence surprised him. </p><p>It wasn’t an oppressive silence. Other people he had worked with before didn’t speak to him out of resentment. But studying your face and your posture as you watched the fire, Din thought it was the opposite. You seemed content. </p><p>The silence between you two could have been called comfortable. It was a thought Din didn’t think he was comfortable with. There was a high likelihood of this temporary truce ending badly. He knew he could end your life without thinking twice if you threatened him. It didn’t mean he wanted this moment of companionship to end like that. </p><p>You hadn’t even mentioned his armour. Most people liked poking fun or asking questions about his helmet. He always remained silent and glared through his visor. He had seen you studying him a few times over the few hours, but you hadn’t said anything. The few conversations you did have with him were kept to what was necessary, nothing more. He hadn’t even gotten your name yet. He wasn’t going to ask for it. He wasn’t going to give his in return, and it wouldn’t feel right to ask for yours if he didn’t tell you his own. </p><p>He did want to know your name though. </p><p>Din knew he was staring and he was glad the helmet hid his face when you turned to look right into his eyes.</p><p>“Do you want to be the first or second watch?” you asked. The two of you had agreed to sleep in shifts throughout the night. </p><p>“First.” He wanted to see what you would say. If you insisted on taking the first shift, he could assume you were planning on double-crossing him in his sleep. If you were alright taking the second shift and trusting him to watch out for you for a few hours, he figured he could try to trust you in return. </p><p>You nodded. “Sounds alright to me.” You leaned back on the ground, using one arm and your small pack as a headrest, and closed your eyes. “Thanks.”</p><p>Din was surprised - someone telling him ‘please’ or 'thank you’ was not something that happened often in the Guild.</p><p>“Name’s (Y/N), by the way,” you said after a few seconds ticked by. “No need to share your name, though, Mando. I know you haven’t given it to anyone.” </p><p>He said nothing and focused on the fire instead. </p><p>A few hours later, when the moons over the planet were high, he shook you awake for your shift. When he laid down for his few hours of sleep, he took a few minutes to pretend to be asleep to see what you would do. </p><p>You did nothing but what you had done when you had been awake: stare at the fire and occasionally look his way. </p><p>Content to trust you wouldn’t kill him in his sleep and confident in his abilities to wake up if you tried, Din fell asleep. </p><hr/><p>When you reached the target’s hideout, the two of you discovered ten bodyguards guarding the small ghost town. That would have been a bit of a struggle for Din on his own, taking on all of them at once. Between the two of you, he figured it would be easy enough. No one lasted in the Guild as long as you had by being a sloppy fighter. </p><p>The two of you worked out a plan. It had been surprisingly easy, Din noted after you had scurried off to take your position. It had taken less time than it would have with others. </p><p>The fight broke out soon after you had speared one of the guards with a weapon Din had never seen before: a lance that at first appeared to be just a metal handle but extended to a blade at the press of a button. The blade was about fifteen feet but as flexible as a whip. With a single twist of your wrist it curved around the corner, impaled a guard through his neck, then went right back to its handle in the blink of an eye. </p><p>It was, for the most part, an easy fight. You and Din, with all your weapons, had done quite well together. You fought well on your own and so did he, and the two of you combined were formidable opponents.</p><p>When the guards had dwindled to only three, Din found himself pinned under fire. Their shooting was relentless, forcing him to hide behind a single old landspeeder he had flipped over to use as shelter, unable to fire back. He hadn’t seen you since the killing of the sixth guard, but the last time he had, you jumped through the window of one of the buildings surrounding the hideout. </p><p>There it was - the truce was over. You had probably gotten to the bounty already and left him to take on the last three alone. </p><p>Din sighed. He had expected it all this time, but he still felt… not <em>sad </em>but disappointed that his partnership with you had come to an end. </p><p>Right as he was about to step out from behind the landspeeder, he heard a shout. The unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. Then another. The hail of blaster fire stopped and Din stood and shot the single guard remaining. The other two already lay crumpled on the ground.</p><p>“You alright, Mando?” he heard your voice from above. He looked up and saw you standing on the rooftop of one of the buildings, blaster in your hand. </p><p>You hadn’t left. You had gotten to the roof and taken out the last few. </p><p>He gave you a thumbs up, the feeling of surprise and something warmer filling him. </p><p>"If you had been dead, I would have raided your ship for parts,” you said when you reunited with him on the ground. You grinned. “Knowing your hunk of junk, it’s probably better for me and my ship that you’re alive.”</p><p>You were joking, he realized, and then he realized that he had started smiling back. </p><p>“I’ve never seen that weapon before,” he said, nodding at your lance. “And as a Mandalorian, that’s saying a lot.”</p><p>You lifted the handle to show it to him. “They’re not very common off my planet.“ You shrugged, placing it back into its holster on your belt. </p><p>“You’re good with it,” he said. </p><p>“I know.” You grinned again. “And thanks, Mando.” You turned your head in the direction of the target’s safe house. “Shall we?” You raised your blaster. </p><p>He nodded, raising his own. </p><p>The bounty was easy enough to capture, and you had knocked him out when he had started pleading (a little pathetically) that he could pay you both in return for his escape. With him bound, the two of you turned to each other.</p><p>“Alright, we have him.” You planted your hands on your hip. Very close to your lance, but not touching it. “What are we doing?”</p><p>Din looked out at the courtyard where the guards still lay. </p><p>“I wouldn’t mind splitting the payment,” he said. </p><p>You agreed, which surprised Din even more than the fact that you had partnered with him to begin with.</p><p>"We shared the fight, I can share the prize,” you said, moving your hand away from your lance. “It’s only fair.”</p><p>He thanked you for helping him. You nodded, waving his thanks off.</p><p>“Partners, remember?” you said. </p><p>Din realized he was smiling again, not knowing why.</p><p>The two of you shared the landspeeder (which miraculously was still functioning) back to your respective ships, which had been parked not too far away from each other. There was a moment where neither of you were sure who would take the bounty on their ship, but Din said you could take him. After plenty of opportunities for you to kill him or let him be killed, he was mostly certain he could trust you not to blow him up the moment your ships were in the sky. </p><p>From the way you glanced back at him as you were dragging the bounty onto your ship, he was certain you understood that trust. </p><p>He still was cautious while flying the<em> Razor Crest</em> alongside your ship, the <em>Zenith</em>. He was prepared to fire back or hit hyperdrive the second there was a sign of aggression from you. </p><p>Time passed, no sign came, and Din was able to lean back, that same warm feeling from before filling his chest once again. </p><hr/><p>You and he had split the payment when you got back to Nevarro, bid each other goodbye, and took off with tracking fobs taking you both to opposite ends of the galaxy. Din had been a little sorry to say goodbye so soon. At least he left in the knowledge that he would likely see you again, and if he ever needed backup for another hunt, you were someone he could call. </p><hr/><p>A month later, Din was on another assignment, this time looking for a wanted smuggler, and all his sources had led him to a city on Cerea. It was a small city, and he didn’t think it would take him long to find his bounty. </p><p>As he walked down the streets, he noticed the citizens parting to make way for him. They whispered as he passed by. He sighed. Gossip would spread fast in a place like this, but it was still a large enough city that there was a good chance the bounty wouldn’t hear of the Mandalorian walking the streets and have the idea to leg it out of here while they had the chance. </p><p>As he was passing an alley, he heard punching, grunting, and hissing - the telltale sounds of a fight. Despite his better judgement, he checked to see what was going on. </p><p>Three Devaronians had surrounded someone and were pushing them around. From the looks of it, they were much smaller, probably human. </p><p>Then there was a blade sticking out of the chest of the Devaronian blocking the victim from Din’s view, and when the Devaronian fell, Din saw their victim was you. </p><p>You were putting up a decent fight, he could see that from you not being pummeled into the ground, but the Devaronians still standing knocked your lance out of your hand and threw you into the wall. You cried out and fell to the ground. The Devaronians started kicking you, laughing in a way that could only be described as gleeful. </p><p>Din rushed into the alley and shot the two bastards down. </p><p>You raised your head. “Holy- Mando?” you said in a raspy voice. </p><p>As he got closer, he saw you were better off than another would have been in your position. You had a split lip, a nasty gash on your forehead and bruising around your neck - had they tried to strangle you? he thought with a rush of anger - but you looked alright. </p><p>“You okay?” he asked anyway, kneeling next to you. He found your lance on the ground and handed it to you. You quickly took it back and placed it in its holster. </p><p>“Mostly.” You slowly sat up and flinched when you put weight on your left hand. Din looked at your arm and saw your shirt sleeve had been torn by a claw mark and your was bleeding underneath. </p><p>“Come on.” He helped you get to your feet. From the way you were holding your wrist, he guessed it was sprained. </p><p>“Thanks,” you said, grimacing and placing your unharmed hand to your throat. You coughed and winced. Din scowled, another surge of anger running through him. </p><p>Din noticed a black stain on your fingernails. He looked down at the two Devaronians and saw that the one you had skewered had bleeding claw marks raked across his face, and the first one he had shot had black blood leaking out of its nose. He looked back up at you and found you holding your wrist again. </p><p>“You’re going to need first aid. Where’s your ship?” he asked. </p><p>“Just off the northeastern outskirts of the city.” You tilted your head in that direction. “Thanks for the help, Mando.” </p><p>You took all of two steps before he was at your side again. </p><p>“Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you get back.”</p><p>You shook your head. “You’ve already helped me enough, I’ll be fine from here. Go get your bounty.” </p><p>“No,” he said. You sighed but said nothing else, and he took your silence as acceptance. </p><p>As he led you back to the <em>Zenith</em>, he heard the whispers of the citizens start up again. He tried not to sigh too loudly. Yeah, the smuggler would definitely be hearing about him sooner than Din had wanted. </p><p>The comfortable silence the two of you had shared that night by the campfire returned, neither of you saying much on the trek back to the <em>Zenith</em>. Once there, Din asked where your medpac was located and you shot him a puzzled look before getting it yourself. Din took it from your hands and, ignoring your attempts to protest, started to patch you up. Using the medisensor he found you didn’t have any internal injuries or bleeding, and your throat hadn’t been hurt too badly, which was a relief. Bacta patches and sprays were easy enough to apply to the gash on your forehead and the marks on your arm. He used an irrigation bulb for your split lip and injected bacta into your wrist to heal. </p><p>The whole process took little time, but Din knew that word of the Mandalorian in the city would have spread very quickly in the time it took to get back to the <em>Zenith</em>. It would spread more in the time it took to get back to the city. </p><p>You had been quiet, although frowning slightly, the whole time. When he was bandaging up your wrist to help with the healing process (some of the older Mandalorians swore it was the only way to keep yourself in perfect shape) you frowned even deeper and asked, “You were on a hunt, weren’t you?”</p><p>Din nodded. </p><p>“You know that in a city that size, word is gonna spread pretty fast that there’s a Mandalorian walking the streets,” you said. “So why are you here patching me up when you could be getting your bounty?” </p><p>Din paused his bandaging as he thought over his answer. Finally, he said, “A debt repaid. For back then.” </p><p>“I didn’t do it so you would owe me.”</p><p>“I’ve dealt with people who would happily sell me out for less than what that slaver was worth,” Din said, wrapping one final loop around your wrist. “In and out of the Guild.”</p><p>He looked up at you without moving his head so you wouldn’t know. You had stopped frowning. In fact, there was a trace of a smile at the corners of your lips. He looked down, tied the bandage into a knot, and shut the medpac. </p><p>The walk back to the city was still quiet. Din was starting to like your kind of quiet. </p><p>“Your throat will probably be sore for the next few days,” he said right before you two parted ways. He wasn’t sure why he reminded you of that. </p><p>You tilted your head with an almost amused expression, thanked him again, then waved at him as you headed south and he headed west. </p><p>Din had been right: his bounty had fled from where his sources said they had been staying. They made it to the other side of the city and nearly managed to escape the planet before Din tracked them down. By the time he got back to the <em>Razor Crest</em>, it was hours after he had planned to be back and he was tired and pissed enough to shove the bounty straight into the carbon freezing chamber. </p><p>He still wasn’t angry enough to regret helping you. </p><hr/><p>It was strange that all it took was meeting you twice before Din felt like he was seeing you everywhere. The galaxy was a huge place, you two were constantly on the move, he shouldn’t have been coming across you as often as he was.</p><p>He knew the truth was that he wasn’t. He had just started noticing you more.</p><p>Most often it was on Nevarro. He would return from a hunt and you were sitting at the bar, or walking out as he walked in, or walking down the street. At first, you only shared nods when he caught your eye. If you were at the bar, sometimes you’d raise your glass in greeting. He’d raise his hand, acknowledging your gesture, but nothing more.</p><p>The more times you saw each other, though, the more things changed. If he passed by you on the streets it became more common for you both to stop and say hello to each other. You always asked him how he was doing and lightly teased him about his hunk of junk ship. He once asked if you planned on getting into another fight he’d need to save you from. You had gasped out loud and smacked him in the arm, but your grin gave you away. He had chuckled to himself even after you had parted ways.</p><p>If he saw you at the bar, he went over to say hello, share a short conversation before he took off for his next hunt or returned to the covert for a brief rest. Sometimes you bought him a snack to bring with him, knowing he couldn’t take off his helmet to eat in public. Whatever the circumstances were, you were always pleased to see him, greeting him with a smile and a ‘hello.’</p><p>At some point, he realized he was always pleased to see you, too.</p><hr/><p>“Third time’s the charm, I guess,” you said as a greeting on Oshira.</p><p>Din had just stepped out of a local hotel with no leads on his bounty. You had been walking down the street at that moment and had caught each other’s eyes. The two of you had stared at each other for a moment before you shook your head and crossed the street, shoving yourself through the crowd of people bustling every which way. The number of people on the street, in the city as a whole, served as a reminder of how unlikely the chances of seeing you were. </p><p>But here you were.</p><p>“The same planet, maybe I can understand that,” you continued. “The same <em>city</em>, though? Three whole times? That’s a little too strange. You’re not stalking me, are you?”</p><p>“I should be asking you that,” he said. “If I were stalking you, you wouldn’t know.” </p><p>“Oh, that’s nice to hear.” You scoffed. </p><p>He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with him or think stalking you was something he would do. “I didn’t mean-”</p><p>“I know what you meant, Mando. I was kidding.” You crossed your arms and hummed. “I know you’d never.”</p><p>Din leaned back the smallest bit at your words. </p><p>“Got a new bounty? Should we compare? Maybe it’s the same one again,” you said, not noticing. He ignored the weird prickly feeling crawling through him and pulled out his bounty puck.</p><p>It wasn’t. You were chasing after a Twi’lek bail jumper, he was looking for a Weequay smuggler. You exchanged pucks and studied the holograms.</p><p>“I saw her yesterday,” you said. “Asked her if she had any info on my bail jumper.”</p><p>“Did she?”</p><p>“No.” You handed the puck back to him. “She frequents a bar on the other side of the city.” </p><p>“Thank you.” Din studied your hologram of the Twi’lek. “I saw your bail jumper in the hotel. He went upstairs when he saw me come in.” </p><p>You pulled your lance from its holster, finger resting on the switch to extend the blade. “Thanks! Good luck with your hunt. Let me know if you need me to come save you again.” </p><p>“You’re the one who’d need saving,” he shot back, stepping out of your way. You smirked, clapped him on the back, and stepped into the hotel. </p><p>He took off down the street, trying to focus despite your words echoing in the back of his mind. ‘I know you’d never.’ </p><p>He could count the people who would say anything like that, anything about knowing him, on one hand. He never meant for people to know him, nor did he need them to. He had only a handful of relationships with Mandalorians in the covert, preferring to keep to the<em> Razor Crest</em> when he could, and outside the covert, all he needed were bounties to hunt and people to pay him for them. People didn’t know him.</p><p>Din knew he was being stupid. It had been a passing comment, nothing worth thinking twice about. </p><p>But he was thinking about it now, all the things he hadn’t thought of before. How the two of you had been willing to trust each other within only hours of knowing each other. How you had skipped out on getting away with that slaver to stay and help him. How he had rushed in to help you even when it put his hunt at risk and he hadn’t regretted it. The many conversations you had shared, however brief they had been. How he always went over to say hello to you even when you didn’t see him first. How you would buy him snacks from the bar (<em>and the streets, </em>he realized, <em>sometimes they buy me food from the vendors in the streets</em>)  to bring back to the <em>Crest </em>and refused to let him pay you back.</p><p>The two of you shared <em>inside jokes</em>. </p><p>You did know him, he realized. Not everything. But you knew him better than anyone else did. </p><p>And he didn’t hate the thought of it. </p><hr/><p>“You’re not wearing gloves.”</p><p>He noticed it the moment he saw you at the bar. He had waited until after his payment from Greef to go over and speak to you. Your hands were bare. You always wore gloves. </p><p>“Hello to you, too,” you said. </p><p>“What happened to them?” He lowered his head the slightest bit so you wouldn’t see he was looking at your hands and not your face. Calluses and tiny faded scars ran across your skin, the standard for the life of a bounty hunter.</p><p>You grimaced. “Got torn up a while ago. And I ran out of backups.” You shrugged and took a sip of your drink. “I’ll get them replaced soon. Anyway, how have you been?” </p><p>The two of you shared a brief conversation. When the barkeep tried to complain about Din taking up space for customers, you waved him off and bought Din something for the road, as had become your custom. You still refused to let him pay you back. </p><p>The next time he saw you, two weeks later, your hands were still bare. They were chapped. As you told him, you had just chased down a bounty hiding out in a very cold climate on an unidentified planet.</p><p>“I thought you said you’d replace them,” he said. </p><p>You sighed. “Something came up. Had to spend the money on repairs instead.” You patted the side of your ship fondly. “Next time.” </p><p>A few days after that encounter, Din was on a hunt that took him to Naboo. While stalking through the market streets, something caught his eye: a pair of gloves in a shop window. Din studied them. They weren’t flashy - plain black gloves, good quality, good fabric, almost exactly what he was wearing now, what you had worn yourself before yours had been destroyed. They looked your size, too. </p><p>Din considered them for a minute before walking into the shop. </p><p>It was luck that, a week later, when he was stepping off the<em> Razor Crest</em>, you were walking into the shipyard and heading for the <em>Zenith</em>. You grinned upon seeing him and he smiled. Your hands were still uncovered. </p><p>“Hey, Mando!” you called. </p><p>Before he could lose his nerve, he tossed the pair of gloves at you. You caught them with ease, then looked down at them with surprise. </p><p>“Consider this payment for all the snacks,” he said, grateful for the helmet hiding his face as his eyes nervously darted from the gloves to the ground to your face. He hoped you’d like them, wondered if he had been right about them being your size, and worried that he had overstepped. </p><p>“You got me gloves?” you asked, looking up at him. He said nothing and tilted his head. You still looked surprised but a smile was growing. You started putting them on, oblivious to how Din watched to make sure he had gotten the right size. To his relief, he had. You flexed your fingers and examined your hands, making sure they felt right. </p><p>“They feel alright?” he asked so he could be sure. </p><p>“They feel <em>great</em>.” You smiled. “Thanks, Mando. You didn’t have to.”</p><p>“I know.” The ‘I wanted to’ went unspoken, but if the way your smile brightened was any indication, you had understood it anyway. </p><p>“No, really - thank you.” You put your hand on his shoulder, a move that startled him. You pulled your hand back after a few seconds, but he swore he could still feel it through the armour. </p><p>He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. </p><p>“Well, I know how you are,” you said, startling him again with your words, <em>I know you</em>, “so I’ll let you go to Greef.” </p><p>“Good luck,” he said, grateful again for the helmet covering his surely flustered expression. </p><p>“Thanks again!” You waved over your shoulder as you headed for the <em>Zenith </em>a skip in your step he hadn’t seen before. </p><p>He watched you go for a few seconds longer than may have been appropriate, but no one was around to see. </p><hr/><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>He had been heading back to the <em>Razor Crest </em>after dropping off his latest reward with the Armourer. The <em>Zenith </em>hadn’t been there when he had landed earlier, but evening had fallen and now you were here, sitting on the gangplank of the <em>Zenith </em>and staring at the city. You hadn’t seemed to have noticed him until he spoke, and now he felt guilty for disrupting your thoughts. </p><p>“Oh, hi,” You smiled at him. “Nothing, really. Just thinking.” </p><p>“Oh.” He stood there for a moment, wondering if there was anything more he should say. Then he realized that to you it would just look like he was staring. He turned to go, the tips of his ears feeling hot, but you called out to him. </p><p>“You can join me if you want. Just to sit.” </p><p>He turned back to you. “I don’t want to intrude.”</p><p>“You’re not intruding.” You leaned forward, placing your chin in the palm of your hand. “I figure you have some new hunt to go off on, but if you wanted to take a breather before you left,” you gestured to your gangplank, “lots of space here.”</p><p>He hesitated. He did have a new bounty to track, and he always took off as soon as possible. Greef Karga had berated him a few times for it. He was known for it amongst the Guild. You had pointed it out a few times yourself while admitting there wasn’t much on Nevarro to stick around for if he couldn’t remove his helmet to have a drink or get something to eat. (He had tried not to smirk at that, thinking of the covert hiding below your feet.) </p><p>Why he sat down with you was a mystery to him. </p><p>There wasn’t much conversation, with neither of you feeling the need to say anything to the other. You just sat and stared at the city, the way the lights turned on and fires glowed as night fell and the sky darkened. The light coming from within your ship was dim but warm. </p><p>It was… nice.</p><p>He sighed and despite himself, loosened up and leaned back. </p><p>“Rough day?” you asked sympathetically. </p><p>“I got thrown through a wall,” he replied. “Pretty normal.”</p><p>You snorted. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You got the bastard, right?”</p><p>“Of course.” He paused. “And… you?” </p><p>You sighed. “Almost got caught up in an explosion, but didn’t.”</p><p>A chill ran through him at your words. “You okay?” </p><p>“Oh, I’m fine. Just got some bruises from the debris. Lost my bounty, though. They wanted him alive. But I lived, so.”</p><p>“That’s good.” </p><p>“Glad you think so,” you remarked. </p><p>Of course he thought so, but he didn’t say that. </p><p>“Could you-” he stopped. </p><p>“Yeah?” you said, encouraging and curious. </p><p>“I said I’d never seen a lance like yours before. I’ve asked others and they’d never heard of it either. I wanted to ask you about it.” The Armourer had been intrigued by Din’s description of the weapon and had all but ordered him to find out more about it. </p><p>“I feel really special now,” you said. “On my home planet, Wreath, there’s a lot of sky-faring creatures, both predator and prey. A lot more than there are on the ground or in the water. We developed these to protect ourselves and catch them as food.” You sighed. Din didn’t know if it was a sigh of homesickness or something else. </p><p>“But in the past few decades, they’ve become… uncommon, even on my planet.” You paused. "Fucking Empire.”</p><p>Oh. That explained the sigh. Din had heard a little about how the Empire had taken your planet and treated it while they were there. There wasn’t a need for weapons like yours if there weren’t as many creatures in the sky anymore. He knew as well as anyone what the Empire could do to a planet. News of Alderaan’s destruction had rippled through the galaxy like a shockwave, not to mention what had been done to Mandalore, or his childhood village. </p><p>The two of you were silent once more, but this one had a weight to it: the weight of memories of a different time when things had been easier. </p><p>You cleared your throat and he turned back to face you. “Anyway, it’s basically a glorified fishing rod." </p><p>"I’ve never seen a fishing rod that can do what you can." </p><p>You beamed at his words. For a bounty hunter you smiled easily, he thought.</p><p>"And as a Mandalorian, that’s saying a lot,” you said, remembering his words from the hunt you had shared. </p><p><em>Another inside joke</em>, a voice in his head pointed out. </p><p>He stood up. “I’ve got to get going.”</p><p>“Bye, Mando.” You waved and he saw you were wearing the gloves he had gotten you. </p><p>He waved back and headed back to the <em>Crest</em>. </p><hr/><p>Din saw the <em>Zenith </em>in the shipyard, but he didn’t see you in the cantina or the streets. </p><p>Greef had seen him surveying the room during their meeting. “Looking for someone, Mando? (Y/N), perhaps?”</p><p>Din turned back to him so fast he felt a crick in his neck. Greef was smiling mischievously over his cup of nikta. “No judgement, my friend. You two have gotten close recently. Given your usual attitude about working with others, it was hard not to notice.”</p><p>He stared at Greef. “Their ship is in the yard.”<em> Where are they?</em></p><p>Greef shrugged. “They seemed out of sorts when they came in. I gave them a <em>list </em>of valuable bounties but they hardly listened. Took the last one on the list. A simple smuggler.” He seemed aghast at your choice. Din could agree. A list of bounties and you only took one? You normally would have taken at least four. When Greef gave him the same list he had given you, Din’s suspicion only grew. You had a variety of choices and you took a <em>smuggler</em>?</p><p>Din took his bounty pucks and took off. He returned to the covert and handed over his payment to the Armourer. He went to the shipyard. The night was falling. Nevarro was slowing down, torches burning and lights shining from within the homes. The <em>Zenith </em>was still there. </p><p>He walked up to it and knocked on the side-door. </p><p>No response. </p><p>He knocked again. “(Y/N), it’s me.”</p><p>It took a moment, but he heard a buzz and the gangplank lowered. Din felt inexplicably pleased that you had answered for him. </p><p>Any pleasure he felt fizzled out when he saw you. </p><p>You looked <em>tired</em>.</p><p>“Hi, Mando,” you said quietly. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” he demanded. He cringed at how harsh he sounded. </p><p>You didn’t seem to care. “Long day.” </p><p>He hesitated. “Can I… help?”</p><p>You stared at him. You looked down, biting your lip, appearing to think. Finally, you looked up. “Come inside?” </p><p>Din walked up the gangplank and into your ship. You left it open, which he appreciated. </p><p>Inside, the <em>Zenith </em>wasn’t that much different from the <em>Crest</em>. Smaller, perhaps, and with more personal items thrown around than the <em>Crest</em>. He preferred to keep his few personal items locked and tucked away in chests. There was a pull-down bed instead of a bunk like his own. It was pulled down and the sheets were a mess, and given your rumpled appearance, you had definitely been lying there for a while. There was a weapons cabinet like his own and benches and storage boxes to sit on. </p><p>You dropped onto your bed. He tentatively took a seat on a storage box closest to the bed. He waited for you to speak. </p><p>“I got a holocall this morning,” you said finally. “My parents died.” </p><p>Din leaned forward. </p><p>“I guess my dad died in his sleep, and mom went only a few days after.” You looked down at your hands. “Almost romantic.” You chuckled dryly. You cleared your throat. “I hadn’t spoken to them in years. We had a big falling out, way before I joined the Guild. When I was twenty-five. They disowned me and I went off and never looked back.</p><p>“It wasn’t for a petty reason,” you said, looking up at him, eyes desperate, needing him to understand. He nodded and saw a flicker of relief. “They were shitty parents. I mean, it’s supposed to be your parents who teach you how to use your lance, but I learned from a friend’s mom. They were never around. When they were, it was complicated. I was glad to say goodbye. I don’t regret never seeing them again. I didn’t need them in my life.”</p><p>You clenched your fists. “But I still feel… guilty that I didn’t. Like I should have. I’m not even sad, but I’m sad that I <em>don’t </em>feel sad. It’s…” you trailed off. </p><p>Din put his hands over yours. You blinked, surprise cutting through the unreadable expression on your face. </p><p>He didn’t know what to say. His parents had been loving and kind, sacrificing their lives to give him a few more seconds of safety. Amongst the Mandalorians, to be a neglectful or cruel parent was one of the most shameful things to be. He had come across abusive parents in his lifetime of course, sometimes as bounties, but never had to deal with them long. He had never had to talk with their victims. He didn’t know how to help you. </p><p>But he kept his hands on yours. You slowly unclenched your fists and bowed your head.</p><p>He squeezed your hands. You squeezed back. </p><p>Maybe he didn’t have to say anything. </p><p>“What’s the Mandalorian custom for mourning?” you asked him later, sitting side by side on the gangplank, watching Nevarro in the night. “If you can tell me, I mean.” </p><p>“I can.” He thought for a moment. </p><p>“We don’t always bury our dead,” he said finally. “Often, we can’t or don’t get the chance to. We keep their possessions if we can. Usually their armour, the full set or smaller pieces. It’s custom that every night before we sleep, we say the names of loved ones who have passed. To keep their memory alive. We don’t always do that now, since the Purge.” </p><p><em>Too many names to say, </em>he thought but didn’t say.</p><p>Your hand fell on his. Din didn’t react. He knew you understood.</p><p>“What else?” you asked softly.</p><p>Din watched the city with you. “We remember. We experience the joy of time spent with our loved ones, but we remember the ones we lost. <em>Aay'han</em>. Bittersweet.” </p><p>“<em>Aay’han</em>,” you repeated, stumbling over the word. He said it again for you and you repeated it once more. You did better this time. He nodded in approval. The corners of your mouth lifted in a brief smile.</p><p>It was very late when you two parted ways. The rest of the night had been spent in near-silence watching the city, thankfully left unbothered by the few who skulked around the streets in the dark of the night. </p><p>“Thanks, Mando,” you said quietly. “For… putting up with this.”</p><p>“If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be here,” he said simply. He shook your hand. “If you… need anything. Just…” </p><p>“I will.” You ducked your head. “Until next time, alright?”</p><p>“Until next time,” he agreed. It took a few seconds longer before either of you released each other’s hands. When you finally did and he walked back to the <em>Razor Crest,</em> he looked back over his shoulder and saw you watching him, a fond smile on your face despite the shadows under your eyes. </p><p>It wasn’t until he was sitting in the pilot’s seat that Din realized you had asked him to come back. </p><hr/><p>“Can I ask you something?” </p><p>“Sure.” He passed you a kebab of Nevarro street food he had bought you. You thanked him.</p><p>“It’s about the helmet,” you warned. </p><p>Din thought for a moment, then nodded. The two of you started walking down the street. Din didn’t know how his meeting with you in the cantina had evolved to walking the streets with you, but he couldn’t find it in him to think about it too much. </p><p>“Mandalorians value parenthood, right?” You took a bite of the kebab. “Oh, that’s good, thanks again. Like, your culture takes pride in caring for children and family.”</p><p>He nodded again. </p><p>“Then if you can’t take off your helmets, how are you supposed to give your children a tender kiss on the forehead?” </p><p>The question and your tone, like giving forehead kisses to Mandalorian children was your top priority, actually made Din laugh out loud. </p><p>When he stopped, you were staring at him with wide eyes, utterly taken aback. </p><p>“First,” he said, grinning so widely his cheeks hurt and trying not to laugh again at your startled expression and the way your kebab was held between your teeth mid-bite, “we can take off our helmets when we’re with family. Second,” he continued when you said nothing, still staring, “when we want to show affection but have our helmets on, we touch foreheads. It’s called a <em>keldabe </em>kiss.” </p><p>You nodded slowly, chewing and swallowing a piece of food. “Sorry, did you just laugh?”</p><p>“Is that all you heard?”</p><p>“No, I heard your answer, that sounds really sweet, but seriously - you <em>laughed </em>?” You had started smiling. “The Mandalorian, fearless bounty hunter, tied to no one, coming and going as he pleases, laughed at my stupid question?” </p><p>He shrugged, smiling even wider. </p><p>“Okay, okay, now I’ve got to get you to laugh again, that was amazing.” You looked up at the sky, humming in thought. “Okay, have you heard the one about the Hutt who walked into a bar with a bantha?” </p><p>When that joke didn’t work, you tried another and another, each getting progressively worse. None of them got a laugh out of him, but Din couldn’t stop smiling at your attempts. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed in front of other people, but he laughed in front of you, and he did so heartily. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled so much with anyone. </p><p>Wait. He could. </p><p>The last time he had smiled this much, it had also been with you. </p><p>His heart fluttered at the realization. </p><hr/><p>Din nearly ran over you as you were coming out of the cantina. You bumped into his chest and he quickly grabbed your arms to keep you from stumbling. (If he kept his hand on your arms a few seconds longer than may have been necessary, well, that was no one else’s business.) “Sorry.”</p><p>“No problem. You just get back?” You glanced behind you and put your hand on his arm, guiding him out of the doorway so people could get by without having to step around the two of you. He could feel your touch through the layers of his shirt, but he was <em>not </em>going to think about it. </p><p>“Yeah. You?”</p><p>“Yes. And-” Your eyes lit up. “Wait, go talk to Greef first. Come by the <em>Zenith </em>later.” </p><p>“Why?” He tried not to sound suspicious. </p><p>“I found something on my hunt. I think you’ll like it.” Before he could question you further, you stepped away from him and went walking down the street. “I’ll see you later, Mando!”</p><p>Din watched you go. He sighed, shook his head, and walked into the cantina. </p><p>When he found you later, hanging around outside the <em>Zenith</em>, he said, “I’m hoping this won’t take an unexpected turn.”</p><p>You shrugged. “We’ve already proven you can beat me in a fight. I figure your chances of surviving if I stabbed you in the back are pretty high.” They had sparred several times now, with Din coming out as the winner most often. Many times it had been a very close call, and you had won more than once. </p><p>He nodded. He knew you were joking, you knew he was kidding, and it never failed to warm his heart (and make it stop, as had happened more than once) that the two of you knew each other so well. </p><p>You gestured for him to follow you onto the <em>Zenith</em>, and he did. He watched as you opened one of the cabinets against the walls of the hull. You picked up a chest. It wasn’t very impressive, just a basic metal box with an old-fashioned lock instead of a digital one. </p><p>“Here.” You held it out to him. He looked from the chest to you, and then back to the chest. “It’s not a bomb.” </p><p>“I know,” he said. It was strange for you to give him something like this. Most often your little gifts for him were, well, food. Neither of you spent money on more than that since he had gotten you your gloves. He took it from your hands, undid the lock, and opened the box. </p><p>And he stared. </p><p>And stared. </p><p>“It is beskar, isn’t it?” you asked, sounding worried when he said nothing. </p><p>Speechless, Din nodded. It was beskar, pure beskar. Several bars worth of it - twelve, each silver and shining, stamped with the mark of the Empire, but flawless even so. </p><p>“Okay, good.” You sounded relieved. “I thought so. My bounty said it was, but I still wasn’t sure.” </p><p>“Where did you get these?” he asked, voice hoarse, picking one bar up and running his gloved fingers over it. It shone like his helmet, the helmets of the others in the tribe. </p><p>“My bounty, the one I just dropped off. He had ties to the Empire. I don’t know if this is how they paid him or if he stole it from them. I found it when I was going through his things to find what he stole from the client.” You paused. </p><p>“I thought… you would know what to do with it. And even if you didn’t, that I should give it to you anyway. It belongs to your people.” </p><p>The beskar had been stolen from them in the Purge, along with so many of their people and their way of life. Beskar was sacred to his people. But to the Empire, it was just another thing they could take from the Mandalorians. To so many others, it was nothing but fancy, shiny metal that could get them a hefty price on the black market. Mandalorians had been killed and robbed of their armour, disrespected even in death. It was one of the lessons given to Mandalorian children, why they had to stay underground, what could happen to them if they let down their guard when they went to the surface. Din had faced more than his fair share of people who wanted to murder and rob him of his armour for the money it would get them.</p><p>He knew you knew that. He knew you knew how expensive beskar was, how much you could get for even a few bars. If you had sold them, you could have upgraded your whole ship and still had some money left over. He would never have noticed, he would have thought it was just the payment of a wealthy client. </p><p>He <em>knew </em>you knew all of that. </p><p>And you had given it to him, given it back to his <em>people</em>, the moment you could. </p><p>“Mando?” </p><p>He finally looked up from the beskar. You were staring at him. </p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>Din had to take a moment, clear his throat before he could respond. “Yeah. I’m okay. I…” </p><p>He placed the bar he held back into the box and closed it. “Thank you.” </p><p>“It’s no problem.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>. This is- you don’t know how much this means to me. To my people.” He set down the box, almost afraid it would disappear, and faced you properly. “Thank you.” He had met so many people - too many people - who would have sold it without a thought. Only a year ago, he would have thought you would do the same. </p><p>The Empire had stolen this beskar from his people, and you had given it back to them as his friend.</p><p>You looked strangely shy, looking down at the box. “Really. I’m happy to help, Mando.”</p><p>And he decided, <em>Fuck it</em>. “Din.”</p><p>You blinked. “What?”</p><p>“My name. My real name.” He took a breath. It was you he was telling, and the strangeness of sharing this part of him melted away. “It’s Din Djarin.”</p><p>“Oh. <em>Oh</em>.” You blinked a few more times and he almost panicked, thinking he had crossed a line,  broken an unspoken rule, but then a slow smile spread across your face, and hell, you were beautiful when you smiled. “Din.”</p><p>He almost shuddered at how his name sounded in your voice. It was the first time in ages, in <em>years</em>, that anyone had spoken his name. </p><p>Din was glad you were the one saying it.</p><p>“It suits you,” you said. </p><p>“I’m glad,” he said, wearing a relieved smile. You chuckled. Din tentatively held his hand out. You took it without question. He knew you expected him to shake your hand, but instead, he stepped a bit closer. You stiffened on instinct but relaxed instantly, staring at him with only a slight crease in your brow. Before he could chicken out, he put his hand on your shoulder and lowered his head until his helmet gently bumped against your forehead. </p><p>He stepped back immediately, face flaming, but you didn’t let go of his hand. You stared at him, eyes huge. </p><p>“That’s a <em>keldabe </em>kiss, right?” You finally said. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. You nodded back. “Alright. Thanks.” </p><p>‘Thanks.’ <em>Fuck</em>. Fuck, what had he done? </p><p>Before he could go too far into his spiral of panic, you squeezed his hand. Din relaxed. </p><p>It was harder to say goodbye after that, but Din had to get the beskar back to the covert and you had a time-sensitive hunt to get started on. (And that you had spent time waiting for him and speaking with him, had his face feeling hot again.) You had leaned in the doorway of the <em>Zenith </em>and watched him go, waving at him, hands covered in the gloves he had bought you, and had bid him goodbye with “Until next time, <em>Din</em>.” You had smiled broadly, almost childish in your glee at the chance to use his name, and he had laughed fondly at you before returning your goodbye and forcing himself to leave. </p><p>The Armourer reacted to the beskar as Din had, silent and reverent as she handled the bars of Mandalore’s metal. </p><p>"Where did you find this?” She asked after a long silence as she studied each piece. </p><p>“It was given to me,” he said, “by a friend.”</p><p>“A friend,” the Armourer repeated. </p><p>“The one who wields the weapon we had never heard of,” he clarified. </p><p>The Armourer looked at him. “You have not told them of our covert." </p><p>"No. I am the only Mandalorian they know of.”</p><p>“And they returned this to us, without asking for payment?”</p><p>“Yes. They said the beskar belongs with us.” He smiled despite himself. It wasn’t like anyone would see. </p><p>“I see.” The Armourer tilted her head. “This is the one who has fought beside you in battle before?” Din nodded. </p><p>“You are lucky to have found such a friend,” she said simply, laying out the pieces before her. </p><p>Din knew that, and he had known for a long time. </p><hr/><p>Din hadn’t seen you in weeks. </p><p>He only just realized it, landing the <em>Razor Crest </em>in the shipyard and seeing the <em>Zenith </em>wasn’t there. He tried to recall the last time he would have seen it and realized it had been at least three weeks since he had seen you. </p><p>It wasn’t concerning. He had gotten used to seeing you frequently, but he knew as well as anyone else that even the best bounty hunters had missions that would take them off for weeks. And your schedules were often a mess. Even after befriending you, sometimes weeks would go by without either of you crossing paths. It had become rare over the past few months, but it still happened. </p><p>He put the thought out of his mind for now. </p><hr/><p>It had been a full two months since Din had last seen you and he could safely say he was worrying. </p><p>Every time he returned to Nevarro and you weren’t there, every time he walked into the cantina and didn’t see you anywhere, he just worried more. He had started noticing your absence the same way he had started noticing your presence so long ago, and your absence had started to weigh on him in ways your presence never had. </p><p>He tried to give it some time, at first. You were strong, a good fighter and hunter, and you were smart. You were probably fine and just busy on longer hunts than usual and he was just worrying over nothing.</p><p>But now the two-month mark had hit, he had once again come back to Nevarro and found the <em>Zenith </em>nowhere in sight, and Din couldn’t stand it any longer. </p><p>He did his best to appear patient as Greef paid him. It was easy enough to keep his hands from fidgeting or his gaze from wandering, but the way he asked Greef where you were - cutting him off just as he was about to tell Din about the new bounties he had - exposed the tension he felt. </p><p>“Where is (Y/N)?” He turned his head to give the appearance of studying the room but kept his eyes on Greef. “I haven’t seen them here lately.” </p><p>It was a great deal more polite than the “Where the fuck is (Y/N)” he had been holding back the whole time. </p><p>Greef stared at him, surprised. His face softened, which was strange, but his eyes held… pity.</p><p>Din felt a squirming in the pit of his stomach and the tension in his shoulders worsened. </p><p>“You didn’t hear?” Greef asked, a little gentler than he usually was. </p><p>Din’s body went completely rigid, alarms blaring in his mind. He swallowed and forced himself to say, “Hear what?” </p><p>“(Y/N) is dead,” Greef said. “They were killed on a hunt.”</p><p>Din felt like he had plunged into ice-cold water. He stared. He said nothing.</p><p>“If I had known you didn’t know, I would have told you. My apologies.” </p><p>Din barely heard Greef’s words over the buzzing in his ears. No. No, that couldn’t be possible. You were strong. You were smart. You had gotten yourself out of plenty of bad situations before. You couldn’t have been killed. </p><p>You couldn’t be dead. </p><p>Din dimly heard himself asking Greef how it had happened. He was proud of himself for not letting his voice break.</p><p>“I don’t have all the details,” Greef admitted. “I got the news from another Guild member. From what he said, there was a fight over who got to take the bounty back and get the reward.”</p><p>And you had lost. </p><p>“I see.” A beat. “Who was it?”</p><p>“Arden Hanch. New fellow. Don’t go taking your anger out on him, Mando. It’s standard procedure. (Y/N) knew what they were doing.” </p><p>Of course, Din thought about it. Arden Hanch? Din didn’t know him, but in the second after Greef first said his name, Din had already visualized tracking him down and making him pay. But he couldn’t do that. It broke Guild rules, killing another bounty hunter without cause. It had been a fair duel. You had lost. Din couldn’t kill Hanch for it. </p><p>He wanted to. </p><p>But he couldn’t. </p><p>It wouldn’t have been honourable.</p><p>Part of him wanted to say ‘Fuck honour’ and find Hanch and kill him, <em>make him pay,</em> but he couldn’t do that. It went against every code he had. </p><p>“Don’t worry about me,” he said flatly. He wanted this to be done. He wanted this to be over. “What do you have?”</p><p>Greef pulled out a few tracking fobs and bounty pucks. Din took two of them. Far less than he usually would, but Greef wouldn’t comment, and no one would come to find him to ask if he was okay, so what did it matter? </p><p>Before Din could leave - and he stood and turned to the door as quickly as he could, ready to leave this all behind - Greef said, “Mando.”</p><p>Din stopped but didn’t look back.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I know you two were close.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Din said shortly, “but my people are used to death.” </p><p>He walked out as fast as he could. </p><p>It was his shortest stay on Nevarro in memory, dropping off his payment with the Armourer and taking off soon as he could within about fifteen minutes.</p><p>He didn’t even know how long you had been dead for. He hadn’t asked. Two months? Only a few weeks? Had he just been unfortunate enough to miss you when he came to Nevarro? Had you looked for him, worried about him as he had for you?</p><p>He didn’t know. He’d never know. He’d never get to ask you. </p><p>Din sat in the pilot seat for hours, staring out across the endless galaxy and the millions of stars. </p><p>When he felt his eyes getting heavy, he leaned back in his seat and hoped he could fall asleep. Your face was burned into his vision, but not in the way he wanted. All he could see was blood-stained skin, blank eyes, devoid of the warmth or humour he had always seen in you. He couldn’t imagine you the way he wanted, the way he should. </p><p>He couldn’t sleep for hours.</p><p>When he woke after a measly few hours of restless sleep, he forced himself to push all thoughts of you from his mind. He had a hunt to focus on. He needed to keep it together.</p><p>Din had to keep it together.</p><hr/><p>The bounty took no time at all, something Greef commented on. </p><p>Din collected his payment - Calamari flan, not ideal but better than Imperial credits - and Greef gave him a new bounty: the highest one, underworld, no chain code, no puck. Din considered it for all of a second. He was itching to keep moving, to keep going, and this would be a challenge he needed. </p><p>Before he could leave, Greef stopped him.</p><p>“I talked to Arden Hanch while you were gone,” he said, and Din scowled at the name. “I found out he took something from (Y/N) after he killed them.” Greef grimaced. </p><p>“<em>What</em>.” Arden <em>fucking </em>Hanch, picking your body for trinkets before it was even cold. </p><p>Before Din could say or do anything, Greef reached down to the seat beside him and picked up-</p><p>Your lance. </p><p>Din froze. </p><p>“I told him that behaviour like that wasn’t accepted in the Guild,” Greef said, examining the weapon, not noticing the way Din grew tense. </p><p><em>(Y/N) would have noticed, </em>he thought before he could stop himself. He pressed his lips together.</p><p>“So he handed it over to me. Your friend didn’t have anyone I could contact, so I thought you might like to have it.” Greef placed it on the table. “As a keepsake.”</p><p>Din slowly reached out and took it, holding it the way he had seen you hold it before. You had once said you’d like to teach him to use it. You had never gotten around to it. </p><p>He examined it. It was in the same condition it had been in when he had last seen you. It was a relief that your most prized possession had not been damaged by the one who had killed you. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said finally. </p><hr/><p>Later, on the <em>Crest </em>with the tracking fob, Din held your lance in his hands. After entering hyperspace, he had picked it up intending to go down and store it in his weapons cabinet, but the longer he looked at it, the less he wanted to. </p><p>He had been surprised but honoured when you had wanted to show him how to use it. You hadn’t gotten the chance, and he was hesitant to use it himself. It was a weapon he did not know of and he had no one to show him. He knew from watching you that it was a weapon one shouldn’t use without a teacher- a memory flashed through his mind, the first time he had seen you use it, how impressed he had been, <em>“As a Mandalorian, that’s saying a lot.” </em> </p><p>Din put the lance on the dashboard and stared at it for a while longer than he should have before he looked forward, thinking of the hunt once more. </p><hr/><p>A child, if that’s what the asset was, had not been what Din had expected, but it didn’t matter because that was his job. He was able to take on the trio of other hunters after the child without too much trouble. He smiled, thinking of how you’d bemoan the fact you weren’t there to rescue him from danger. Then he remembered that you couldn’t and he’d never hear those jokes again. </p><p>Swallowing hard, Din continued on his way.</p><hr/><p>His whole ship had been destroyed, everything valuable to him and his ship had been stolen, and he was stuck on this skughole of a planet, but the thing he kept coming back to was the lance was missing. </p><p>Your lance had been stolen.</p><p>You would have been pissed. If you were here you probably would have hit him for losing your weapon. But you <em>weren’t </em>here and Din had to think about what he was going to do now. </p><p>Still, as he worked to fix his cuirass and bandage his wounds, despite his best efforts to do otherwise Din kept thinking about you, a sinking feeling in his stomach. </p><p>The one thing he had of you, your most prized possession was gone. Gone within only days of owning it. Some friend he was, he couldn’t even keep your things safe. </p><p>Couldn’t even keep <em>you </em>safe. </p><p>He stopped his work as the thought hit him like a punch in the stomach. </p><p>For all of the jokes about saving each other, when it had mattered, Din hadn’t been there. </p><p>Hanch never would have put a finger on you if Din had been there. </p><p>But he hadn’t been there and you were gone. All the times you and he had crossed paths and ended up on the same planet at the same time and he couldn’t be there for you when he was needed most.</p><p>Din stared down at the cuirass on his lap, staring at the cracks in the metal.</p><p>He was pulled out of his thoughts when he realized the kid somehow escaped from the pod and wandered up next to him. It extended one tiny three-clawed hand and tried to touch the bleeding cut on Din’s arm. Din stared at it for a second, wondering what it was doing. Was the thing trying to… <em>comfort </em>him?  </p><p>For a split-second, something seemed to shift in the air around them. </p><p>Din picked the child up and placed it back in its pod, banishing it and all thoughts of you for the rest of the evening. </p><hr/><p>Seeing your lance amongst the Jawas scrap was enough to make him break out the flamethrower a second time. </p><p>“Give it back, it’s <em>mine</em>!” he roared, the Jawas scattering with terrified screeches in the face of his rage. This was different from his petty annoyance and they all knew it.</p><p>Kuill grabbed his arm and forced it down, shooting him a reproachful look but saying nothing. The flames dispersed, but Din’s anger did not, and he burned with fury every time he thought of your weapon in the hands of thieves who did not know what it meant to you or your people. When it and the rest of his things were back in his possession (after nearly getting himself killed again) and his ship was put back together, Din put it back on his dashboard without a word. </p><p>The child watched him do it with large, glittering black eyes, and Din tried not to think of what you would have thought of him. It.</p><p>(You would have thought it was cute, he knew.)</p><hr/><p>Din gave the child up. </p><p>Then he got the Child back. </p><p>Din obliterated Arden Hanch when the bastard shot him and nearly hit the bundle in his arms, and Din was pleased to have killed your killer and defended the Child in one go. </p><hr/><p>Spending time on Sorgan gave him the chance to breathe. Despite spending almost all of his time trying to turn villagers into warriors, it was as safe a place as he could find, and there was still plenty of time to just relax. </p><p>What Din did not realize was that having the time and space to let himself focus on something other than a mission and protecting the Child meant that his thoughts often ended up drifting to you. </p><p>He would watch Omera hit target after target without missing and think <em>(Y/N) would love her</em>. Cara would swing by his cabin to drop off a meal and he’d remember you buying him something for the road. Once he caught the Child swallowing a whole live frog and when the Child looked up at him, frog legs poking out of his mouth, Din strangely compared the Child’s face to your face with the kebab in-between your teeth. He looked at the village of people doing everything they could to preserve the life their ancestors had made and thought of you, one of the few left who knew how to use a weapon that had once been the livelihood and safety of your people. </p><p>More often than not he would shut down any thought like that and move on. </p><p>But as Din laid in his bed after a long, taxing day, he let his mind drift. He thought of what you would have liked about Sorgan. You would have liked the food, he knew that. You would have liked Cara, Omera and the other villagers Din had gotten to know. He could see you finding places to sit and stare out across the village, lost in thought. </p><p>Din considered the Child and drifted further - how the fight on Nevarro been different if you had been there. He would have asked you for your help. He would have told you he was getting the kid back. You would have helped him.</p><p>Din thought about you coming with him and the Child. You would have helped him with it all. </p><p>His heart ached. </p><p>Just as he was about to push away his thoughts of you, roll over and try to fall into another night of restless sleep, he heard a noise. He sat straight up, reaching for the blaster under his pillow before he located the source of the noise. The Child, swaddled in a pram beside the bed, had fussed in his sleep for a moment before settling again. He was fine now. </p><p>Din studied the Child. </p><p>You would have loved him. You would have felt… all of the complicated feelings Din felt for the Child. You would have laughed when he insisted on following Din on Sorgan despite Din firmly telling him to stay put. </p><p>The Child snuffled and rolled over. Din smiled despite the ache in his chest. </p><hr/><p>The Child had a habit of touching things and getting into places he shouldn’t. Din made sure to keep his weapons cabinet shut and locked tight. He even managed to get it together and put your lance away, too, after a point. He had grown too worried that the Child would get his hands on it and skewer himself to keep it out. Din only opened the cabinet up again if the Child was out of the way, in the bunk or napping. Naptime became Din’s chance to clean his weapons. </p><p>But the Child was sneaky and stealthy and he managed to get into Din’s things while he was occupied. Din didn’t notice until he heard an inquisitive sound and spun so fast he felt something crack in his neck. </p><p>The Child was fine. He hadn’t picked anything up. He was just looking around curiously at the few weapons Din had laid out on the floor. Din was just about to swoop in and pull him away when the Child stopped and pondered over one particular weapon: yours. </p><p>Din didn’t use your lance, didn’t even press the switch that unleashed the blade out of self-preservation. He did, however, clean and polish it whenever he could. It was a time he used to think about you so he wouldn’t think about you at other times. </p><p>That was his plan, at least, but he still would think of you more than he wanted to anyway. </p><p>The Child stroked the shining metal. He looked up at Din and made a curious noise. This was a weapon he hadn’t seen yet. </p><p>Din swallowed before picking the Child off the floor. “Not a toy." </p><p>The Child cooed again, not deterred. Din picked up the lance as well.</p><p>Din sat and placed the Child on his knee, plans of cleaning dashed for the time being. He held the lance in his other hand. "It isn’t mine. It belonged to a friend of mine.” </p><p>Din didn’t know why he was telling the Child this. He didn’t even know if the kid understood him. But the Child stared up at him and blinked several times, then gave his cuirass a push and made a noise like “Bah!”</p><p>Din kept talking. “A close friend. They… died. Only a while before I found you.” </p><p>The Child’s ears drooped. He made an understanding noise. </p><p>“They were a good friend,” he said quietly. He ran his finger over the metal. “We trusted each other. We cared about each other. We tried to look out for each other. But sometimes that isn’t enough. I wasn’t there when they died. I didn’t even know.” </p><p>That killed him, that he still didn’t know when it had happened. He didn’t even know if it had been quick, or painful, or if there would have been enough left of you to bury. </p><p>“They knew me more than anyone else. And I knew <em>them </em>more than anyone else.” That was hard to come by. Someone who got under his armour and got to know him, the man underneath. You had been a rare one, and as much as it had unsettled him in the early days, it had become a comfort. More than that, when he had gotten to know you, it became the most natural feeling in the world. </p><p>“They kept me fed,” he admitted with a smile. “Got me food all the time. I did what I could to repay them. Got them a pair of gloves to protect their hands. Got them food when I could. They made me laugh, more than once. We both made each other feel better when we could. I…”</p><p>Din trailed off. His eyes were wet. The Child had wrapped his tiny hands around Din’s fingers and was holding on tight, looking up at him with the biggest eyes, smiling. </p><p>“I miss them,” he said finally. </p><p>The Child cooed softly and bumped his head against Din’s cuirass. Din smiled again despite the tears in his eyes. </p><p>“I’m okay,” he said despite not feeling okay at all. He rubbed the kid’s head gently. The Child reached up and patted Din’s hand, and Din’s heart softened. He remembered the night he had comforted you over your parents and had held your hand, when he had told you of <em>aay'han</em>. </p><p>When the Child and he tucked in for the night, Din thought long and hard about it, then thought of you - how you had looked when you laughed; shoving someone away from him when they got in his face; a kebab in-between your teeth, staring wide-eyed as he laughed. He whispered, “(Y/N) (L/N).” </p><p>His sleep was only a bit more restful than usual, but he felt better for doing it.</p><hr/><p>It got only a little easier after that. </p><p>He thought of you more often but tried to remember the good more than think of the bad. He thought of you throughout his journey with the Child, remembering the good times with you while he enjoyed his time with the Child. </p><p>It was hard. Din still wasn’t okay. He still missed you. He still felt that ache of missing you, and he felt it more keenly the longer he let himself feel it. But it felt better, somehow. </p><hr/><p>Being given a purpose to his journey, finding the Child’s people rather than just flying aimlessly looking for a next job and avoiding hunters and the remnants of the Empire, made things easier. He was focused, he had a mission. He was looking for other Mandalorians to tell him what they knew of the Jedi. He was looking for people who knew of the Jedi. He was spending every day with the Child and the more time spent with him was like putting bacta on a burn. </p><p>Din still said your name before he fell asleep every night. Sleep had started finding him more easily since he had. </p><hr/><p>The planet reminded him of Sorgan, Din thought as he read about it. It was made up of only two continents, separated by a very wide ocean. It was pretty small, with a low population density, only one starport over the whole planet, and nothing of much importance. Before being given his mission of finding the Jedi, it would have been perfect for him and the kid to lie low on. He had heard through word of mouth that some Mandalorians were living there. He didn’t know how true it was, but it was something, and he had to follow up on it. If nothing else, he could make sure it wasn’t true. </p><p>He landed in the starport, got the kid in his pram, and took off to find someone he could ask about the Mandalorians. He ended up in a cantina, of course, and speaking to the bartender, who told him that there were Mandalorians living on the planet, but he only knew of one person who knew where. </p><p>Din then had to track down that one person, who informed him that from what they knew (as they had only heard it from someone else) there weren’t Mandalorians, but a single Mandalorian. They were helpful enough, giving him the name of the village they had heard the Mandalorian lived. The village was on the other continent, across the ocean that was so wide and treacherous that boats only took the trip back and forth every six months or so. Din returned to the <em>Crest</em>, feeling like he was being led on a wild fynock chase, but also knowing it was his duty to see if the Mandalorian was really there. </p><p>The village he eventually found was only somewhat larger than the one on Sorgan. Their main production, much like every other populated area on the planet (which were few), were the fruit orchards they grew. People stared and whispered as he walked through the streets. He ignored them. He looked around for a Mandalorian. If they were living here alone, they were probably not in much danger, so he didn’t think they would hide underground - there wouldn’t be an underground to hide. </p><p>The Child, as always, was curious and excited to be in a new place. Din didn’t think there was any danger to be found in the people here, but he remained on guard. </p><p>Din walked into the village cantina. As usual, a hush fell over the room when he appeared in the doorway. The woman at the counter stared as he approached her. He could see the apprehension in her expression, but he internally commended her for not letting it show when she asked, “What can I do for you, friend?”</p><p>“I’ve heard rumours about a Mandalorian living in this village. Anything you could tell me about that?” </p><p>The woman looked surprised, then frowned. “Where’d you hear that?”</p><p>“Word of mouth,” he said simply. “Are they true?” He had a feeling he knew the answer. </p><p>“Nope. Sorry, friend.”</p><p>Din sighed. Just as he had expected. “It’s alright. Thank you.” </p><p>He reached to pull out some credits to pay for the help and a meal - may as well feed the kid while he was here - but the woman said, “I’m pretty sure the rumours just got twisted around. We don’t have a Mandalorian here, but we <em>do </em>have someone who knew a Mandalorian. Maybe they could help you.”</p><p>Din was surprised. “That would be great. Where could I find them?” </p><p>“After you swaggered into town?” The woman grinned and leaned against the counter. “They’ll probably be here any second to make sure no bounty hunter takes off with one of our own.”</p><p>Sounded like this could be interesting. “Could I get some broth for the kid while we wait?” He set the credits on the counter. The woman winked, took the credits, and took off, calling to the cook to dish her up a bowl of broth. Din leaned back against the counter and waited. </p><p>As the woman had said, he didn’t have to wait long.</p><p>Din felt like he had been punched in the stomach.</p><p>You had just walked through the door. </p><p>You were standing in the doorway. Not dead. Very much alive and ready for a fight. Your blaster was in its holster at your hip. </p><p>This had to be a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time he had dreamed of you. </p><p>You turned his way and Din’s whole body stiffened. He couldn’t breathe. You approached him slowly, hand inches from your blaster before you stopped and looked him over from top to bottom. Your eyes narrowed as you slowly made your way back up to his helmet, and they widened. </p><p>Din couldn’t breathe. </p><p>“Mando?” </p><p>How many times had he dreamed of your voice? Had done his best to remember what you sounded like? </p><p>“Is that you?”</p><p>Now you were speaking to him and he knew his memories had been wrong. He had never been able to remember how beautiful your voice was. </p><p>“Holy shit, it <em>is </em>you, isn’t it?” You were getting excited, a wide smile spreading across your face. He had missed that smile so much it hurt to see it now. “Gods, it’s been forever! I can’t believe you found me, Mando!”</p><p>You were calling him Mando. </p><p>He had given you his name and you were calling him ‘Mando.’ </p><p>You started to approach him again. Din pulled out his blaster and pointed it at you. You froze. The others in the cantina shouted and panicked, ducking under tables or flying for the door. The Child hit the button on his pram and shut it tight.</p><p>“Prove to me you’re not a changeling,” he said, proud of himself for keeping his voice and his hand from shaking. “That you’re not wearing my friend’s face.”</p><p>You had raised your hands, not looking afraid but confused by this turn of events. “Changeling? What are you-”</p><p>“Tell me my name,” Din ordered. “My friend is one of only four people to have ever known my name other than my family or my people. Tell me my name.”</p><p>You glanced around at the people cowering. “Let me get close enough to tell you. Can’t let them hear, right?” </p><p>He had told you about the Mandalorian practice of hiding one’s name from others, the same as one would their face. Few non-Mandalorians knew of it. His hand shook. He knew you had seen it.</p><p>Din steadied his hand and lowered his blaster. </p><p>If you were a changeling, he was going to kill you. </p><p>You came closer, hands still raised. When you had come far enough, Din nodded. You looked around at the others, then said, quietly enough that only he could hear you, “Your name is Din Djarin.”</p><p>His grip on his blaster loosened. </p><p>“You told me after I gave you a box of beskar bars I found with a bounty on a trip.” You gave him a look. “Alright? Have I proven myself? Now, what is this all about-” </p><p>You stopped talking when Din reached you in a single long stride, cupped your face in his hands, and pressed his forehead to yours. You made a small noise of surprise before you put your hands on his biceps and leaned into it as though on instinct without question. He closed his eyes and tried not to tremble at feeling your touch through his layers of clothing. He was all too aware of how he was exposing his weakness to the crowd of strangers around him, but he didn’t care.</p><p>You were here. You were alive. He was holding you and you were holding him back. He still didn’t understand what had happened, how this was possible, but you were here and he didn’t care. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been working on this for a very long time so if you could leave a review it would mean a lot. Thank you!</p><p>I think I did a decent job, making the reader neutral in terms of gender and race, but if there's anything you noticed you feel like bringing to my attention, feel free.</p><p>In case it isn't clear, Din has found the reader sometime between season 1 and season 2.</p><p>Also this fic has references to the comic series Saga, so if you notice them please tell me so I know there are others who read the series and appreciate my references.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>